Close
by hell-whim
Summary: Someone has to make the first move. Cortez/Vega


**Close**

Steve returns to the table with enough beer to drown a krogan.

"Did you see that line?" he says to Vega's nonplussed look. "I figured we should stock up. Prepare for any eventualities."

"Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Esteban."

He tips a bottle to Steve, a half-salute, who tips back, and they drink.

"So," Vega says, after a suitably comfortable silence, "Lola and the Major, huh?"

He gestures towards their entwined bodies—what they're doing can only qualify as dancing in the academic sense, but it's no more explicit than anyone else on the floor. Steve laughs.

"You didn't know?"

"I figured it out!" Vega says, flexing his left hand in demonstration. "Still, he seems so...by-the-book."

"Heart wants what the heart wants," Steve says with a shrug. "Garrus says they were always like that."

"Guess we'd feel the same if we'd been together at the start."

"What?"

It's loud in the club, a decent cover to pretend he didn't hear. James shakes his head with a chuckle.

"I'm glad you finally came out with us. Nice to see you off the ship and out of the shuttle."

"Her doing, I guess," Steve says, after a pause. "Good thing she's not a stickler for regs."

"No one is," Vega agrees. "I mean, who has the time?"

He moves down the bench, sliding up close, close enough Steve can feel the heat of him over the heat of the club, close enough to lower his voice.

"I was really worried about you, you know? I know what it was like, losing someone to the Collectors, but I didn't really know if you wanted to talk about it. Least of all with me."

"You're a consummate professional, Mr. Vega. I didn't even know you cared."

"I do care."

Steve can't look up, eyes narrowed on Vega's hand, inching across the table, gently brushing the back of his own hand. His throat is dry, his head pounding, his heart—his heart oddly still, breathing slow and careful. Vega draws his hand back, wrapping it around a new bottle.

"Hell of a thing, what this war's doing," Vega says. "Funny to watch, no? All these people you only heard stories about, saw in the vids. All so..."

"Human?"

Vega chuckles.

"Yeah. I guess. _Human_. Weird that we're a part of it now."

But they're not—at least, not right now. Shepard and Alenko command the dance floor, while Liara laughs with Tali and Garrus across the room, tossing back shots. Joker and EDI have already withdrawn somewhere a little more private. They'd all started the night off together, staking claim to the largest table, opening the largest tab. Vega's thinking the same thing, he guesses, cautiously setting his arm on the cushion behind Steve's head.

Steve tugs desperately at the collar of his fatigues, pulling the sweat-damp fabric from his skin.

"One button won't kill you, Esteban," Vega says, mouth at his ear.

Steve feels a little guilty at the way he vaults out of the seat, knocking over an empty glass, tunnel-visioned and mindless in his march for the door. Shepard catches his wrist in passing.

"Where're you going?" she asks over the music, one arm still slung over Alenko's back.

"Just—outside. Need some air."

"Hey, you okay?" Alenko says, gaze flickering to the table and then back to his face.

"Yeah, fine. It's a little warm in here, is all."

Shepard lets go with a shrug, and he feels their concern on his back until he reaches the balcony. Citadel doesn't really do nights, but it's cooler outside and a little less full of flashing lights. Steve leans against the rail, bent nearly double, forcing oxygen into his lungs.

There's a few chattering groups, some couples scattered around nearby, but distant and quiet enough that he can hear Vega's boots approaching.

"I didn't mean to make you jump," he says. "I like being friends. We don't have to go any further than that."

He rests a hip on the rail, and Steve stands, not quite stepping away.

"It's not that," he says with difficulty. "It's just...I know he's gone, but it still feels like cheating."

Vega nods, arms crossed, and kicks at a bend in the floor.

"Robert would've wanted you to have a life."

"I know. We talked about it. All those what-ifs. He said he'd want me to move on. And I said the same. I'm just..."

Steve frowns and joins Vega against the rail.

"I don't know if I'm there yet. I always thought Robert was it for me, that I'd never have to look anywhere else, or find anyone else. He was my _one_, and now he's gone."

"Hey, I'm not looking for a house and two kids."

Vega laughs and looks away for a moment.

"Least, not right now. Just some fun, yeah?"  
"Galaxy's gone to shit, and you figure one last tumble's all you need?"

"Alright, maybe I want a little more than that," Vega concedes, smiling. "But I can wait. If you want me to."

"Leaving an exit, huh?"

"Like I said, I like being friends. I wouldn't mind being more. We could see where it goes, but maybe we start here?"

Vega leans over and kisses him, softly, just a test. It's almost absurd, laughable even, seeing such a familiar face from such an intimate distance. One hand hovers, questioningly, over Steve's cheek, and he closes his own hand over it, pressing down, his other hand sliding up Vega's side.

He can't help the comparison to Robert, but doesn't fight it. Different isn't always worse, of course, and he tilts his head, running his tongue across the seal of Vega's lips, encouraging him with a little hum of pleasure. They both taste of alcohol, and Steve grips a fistful of Vega's shirt, pulling their bodies closer. There's more of Vega than there ever was of Robert, certainly, more hard lines and angles. He wonders what it would be like, pinned beneath that weight, enveloped by that mass of muscle and bone.

"Go easy," Vega teases when they part. "It's my first time."

"Okay, maybe I'm a little closer than I thought."

Vega's hand drifts down, thumb running across Steve's lower lip.

"We could get out of here," he says. "I know a decent place nearby."

"You already have a room, don't you?"

Vega looks away with an almost bashful grin.

"All eventualities," he says with a shrug. "You in?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "I think I am."


End file.
